


The Consequences of Flight

by Tournevis



Series: The Dancing Suite [2]
Category: Murdoch Mysteries
Genre: A host of OCs - Freeform, A host of historical figures, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bicycles, Diary/Journal, Fake Academic Essay, Historically Accurate, M/M, Paris (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-06-14 04:00:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 16,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15380193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tournevis/pseuds/Tournevis
Summary: The following is taken from a recently defended Master’s cognate in History entitled « The Consequences of Flight : The Rediscovered Diary of a Canadian Homosexual in the Late-Victorian Era. »





	1. Excerpts from the Introduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cameo (CameoSF)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CameoSF/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Different Style of Dancing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1359208) by [Cameo (CameoSF)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CameoSF/pseuds/Cameo). 



> I strongly suggest reading the previous story in this series if you want this journal to make any sense.

**Excerpts from the Introduction**

[…] The history of homosexuality at the waining years of the Victorian era, whether in North America or Europe, is limited by an extreme dearth of primary sources outside of judicial and police records. While we know quite well how homosexuality was policed and legislated, the lived experience of homosexuals remains obscured. There are a few notable exceptions, usually among artists and writers, but even in their cases, much is to be deduced and many historians will refuse to see anything other friendship in historical correspondence which would be considered proof of a gay relationship in the contemporary record. As such, the turn of the Twentieth century continues to be a history of silences and closeted individuals thrown forcibly into the light by judicial means.

In Canada, the new Criminal Code adopted in 1868 on the heels of Confederation made same sex relations into act of gross indecency which, if it no longer required the death penalty, continued to land homosexuals in prison and hard labour. As such, there are few “confirmed bachelors” in the non-judicial public record in this period, outside perhaps of Montréal. Indeed, in Toronto the Good around 1900, homosexuals of any gender only even appear when prosecution or public opprobrium is raised. This is why the discovery of a hitherto unknown diary of a hitherto unidentified Toronto homosexual, one well-known person at that, is so rare and exciting. [...]

[...] Internal references show that the diary’s author was most likely none other than William Murdoch (b. 1863, Shelbourne, NS-d. ?), who served in the Toronto Constabulary, notably as a Detective of Station House no 4 from 1893 until his disappearance in October 1899. [...]

His disappearance, along with that of former millionaire and inventor James Pendrick (b. 1865, Toronto, ON-d. ?)) had led at the time to endless speculation as to their well-being. [...] Police archives reveal little more. They show it was well-known that the two men lived together in the Pendrick Mansion in Rosedale, but with no suspicion of impropriety. 

What was well known at the time, however, was that in the few days before they disappeared, the men were kidnapped and tortured by James Gillies (b. 1878, London, UK; d. 1899, Kingston, ON), whom Murdoch had arrested for murder in 1897. Toronto newspapers, for the most part, believed them murdered. [...] Until the discovery of the diary presented here, popular culture had completely embraced the theory that serial murderer James Gillies had assassinated Murdoch and Pendrick, as the movies _Jagged Edges_ (1996) and its remake _The Murdoch Trap_ (2012) posited. 

The Murdoch diary reveals a very different story. Murdoch and Pendrick survived Gillies, but they were found to have been much more than housemates. The two men were in fact a committed couple, but they had allies in the Toronto Constabulary who aided in their flight from the city. 

That Murdoch and Pendrick were a homosexual couple, one that had completely escaped the historical record is astounding, especially considering how well-known both men were in Toronto at the time. Between 1893 and 1900, Toronto newspapers are replete with articles and reports about them. Murdoch was arguably Toronto’s most well-known police officer at the time, due to his arrest record and his many narrow escapes. Pendrick was perhaps more infamous than famous. He was an impressively successful industrialist, becoming one of Toronto’s first millionaires by 1894, but suffered a humiliating blow, when it was revealed that his wife (Sally Hubbard, 1866-1898) was in fact a criminal mastermind and multiple murderer herself! She swindled her husband out of most of his fortune. It was in fact during the investigations over the Hubbard thefts and murders that Murdoch and Pendrick met. It is not known when their intimate relationship began. 

[...] The Murdoch diary is a unique window into the minds of the two men. Spanning about a year, it is dated from March 8th, 1900 to October 17th 1900, with two early entries dating to some time after they fled Toronto in October 1899. It recounts how they left Toronto, through Montréal and Cherbourg to finally Paris. Murdoch’s narrative is at times choppy, especially in the first section, which was written aboard the Hamburg-America line steamship _SS Columbia_ while describing their winter sojourn outside Montréal. It speaks to the physical and emotional toll they suffered. The reader cannot help but feel for these two gay men, facing a world of prejudice preventing them from healing properly from the trauma inflicted upon them. It also shows how they overcame their travails. It is quite moving at times: the former policeman expresses great sorrow. It seems perhaps the men even suffered from clinical depression. “I find I need to speak of the last few month,” writes Murdoch at the beginning of the journal. One excuses the disorganization of the diary’s first section, as it was written in the span of a week, largely in flashback, during a singular period of transition: the crossing of the Atlantic before they would begin their new life in France: “There will not be a return trip for us.” [...]

The second section of the Murdoch diary, written in Paris proper, is just as moving, though it speaks more of adventure and discovery, as both men find a place for themselves and a new identity. Murdoch quotes Pendrick: “We might make ourselves useful afterall [ _sic._ ].” Contrary to the former section, the Paris narrative is written day to day, rendering it more legible and more coherent. [...] The diary itself is a single 100-page ledger manufactured by the Consolidated Stationary Company (Winnipeg, MB) and is written with at least three different nibs. Murdoch’s handwriting is crisp and legible, consistent throughout despite the different writing implements used, and compares perfectly with the police reports he penned before his disappearance. [...] There are several missing pages.

This cognate essay takes the form of an annotated transcription of the Murdoch diary. Individuals, places, events and inventions that have been identified with certainty are fully referenced. Where doubt remains, footnotes indicate this candidate’s best hypothesis. Wherever possible, the original text, including redactions, have been kept, as well as the original spellings.


	2. The Murdoch Diary, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The Murdoch Diary, part 1:**  
>  Sault-au-Récollet and SS Columbia,  
> To 8 March 1900

_[no date]_

I am worried about James.

 

_[no date]_

I wrote this sentence nearly two months ago, some time after Christmas. I don’t remember the exact date. My memory is failing me and I worry.

 

_8th March, Thursday_

I have decided I should keep a journal, a diary. Now that we are no longer in danger of immediate arrest. I find I need to speak of the last few months. I has been almost 6 months since we left Toronto. We boarded the SS Columbia this morning, heading for Cherbourg, from which we are heading to Paris1. We are in a 2nd class cabin that James had arranged to be reserved for us when Operation Exodus was launched. The ~~too~~ ship is comfortable and swift, and rather modest for a Hamburg-America steamship, or so James tells me. ~~No doubt~~    He’s been on bigger, better vessels. Which comes as no surprise, and I have caught him looking wistfully at 1st class Passengers and to glimpse into their reserved Salons. I think, though, he is attempting to see if he knows any of them. We do not want to be recognized. Myself, I am simply happy to have avoided joining the 3rd class passengers below. I am told there are about 300 of them on our way to Europe, but there will be close to 800 when the ship makes its way back.

There will be no return trip for us. Certainly not in the foreseeable future. There is a library on board. It is small well-stocked and open to all 1st and 2nd class. James is already sat in one of the deep leather chairs reading the morning editions. We will not have access to them for at least a week, until France. James is pointedly not asking me what I am writing in this ledger. I am writing because I need to tell ~~the~~    our story to someone and because it cannot happen in person. ~~Not even to a priest.~~    Paper will have to do.

Six months ago, We left Toronto on the Monday morning in a coach that would take us to Kingston as per the original plan James

 

[pages missing]

I will not name anyone in this diary. There is no shame in what James and I are to eachother and what we have done, but I cannot in good conscience risk that this diary could or anything could be read used to reach back to those of our friends who helped us.

This journal is therefore must be of William Gagnon and his ~~compagnon~~ friend James Beckett. This is who we are now.

Young J helped the staff2 and Dr R3 pack for us, as I made lists of what to bring between naps. The good Dr O4 cried when I hugged her last. James regained consciousness in the early morning and took the news of our impending flight well enough, all considering. Our enemy5 had made sure his intentions clear to James before torturing him. Our enemy kept James well drugged after a day or so. He did not remember being blinded and rendered dumb with plaster casts. He was not in any shape. He was not in any shape to travel, we all knew, but we did not have any choice. The doctors would not chance giving him a tonic or stimulants not even coffee because most are diuretic and he was still dehydrated. The daylong trip to Kingston only made things worse, for both of us, even if I were in a better state of health.

We bid farewell to our house, the library, the music room, our friends. We left our life on that cold Winter morning.

We were two [ _sic._ ] numb to cry and It was too early to mourn, so we spoke softly in the coach huddled under the coach covers, which were heavy and dry. I recounted what had happened in the last three days and what he’d missed of our rescue. How Dr O had been a beacon of sanity during the ordeal. How G6 had proven himself a capable Detective. How I‘d be lost without him7 at my side. How I love him and cannot regret our life despite the strife. And how we owed the Inspector8 everything. Why we had to leave.

James explained how our enemy has lured him to the laneway of St. David’s. It had been too easy, James felt more than foolish. How no one had recalled witnessing the event is astounding to me. Somehow, our enemy or an aid had used what I think is a fishing line to pluck James’ driving hat right off his head. ~~near~~ He saw it fly up above his head drove to follow it. when it disappeared from sight, James stopped his motor without thinking and turned the corner to get his hat back. One turn into the laneway and he was smothered with chloroform. He woke next in what we now know was the top floor of ~~the Ru~~ a downtown building. All this for a hat.

When we arrived at Kingston, we almost took a room at the PG9. James was not in a good way, but we decided to take the next train to Mtl. James wouldn’t have been able to walk up the hotel’s steps, so we simply waited in the lounge with hot drinks for three hours. He had high tea. When we boarded the train across the street, from there it was a smooth enough trip to Mtl. Or so was the plan.

 

1\. The Hamburg America Line steamships on the New York/Hamburg via Southampton and Cherbourg route sailed out of Hoboken, NJ.  
2\. “Young J.” Could not be identified and no records remain of who Pendrick kept as staff after 1898.  
3\. Doctor Paul Roberts (1869-1903), who rose to prominence as one of the more progressive staff members at Toronto’s Provincial Asylum until he resigned due to ill health in 1901.  
4\. Doctor Julia (Ogden) Roberts (1863-1938), Toronto’s only female coroner, on and off, from 1895 to 1918.  
5\. James Gillies, as discussed in the introduction.  
6\. Presumably George Crabtree (1875-1927), constable then detective of Toronto’s Station House no 4. Records show he worked primarily as an assistant to Murdoch before 1900.  
7\. Pendrick, most likely.  
8\. Thomas Brakenreid (1856-1928). Born in York, UK, he emigrated to Toronto as a young man and made his way up the echelons of Toronto’s police force, becoming Inspector in 1891, and Chief Inspector in 1908.  
9\. The Prince George Hotel in Kingston, ON, which still stands across Ontario St. from the now defunct train station. It has been in operation almost continuously since 1809, though today only caters to long-term rentals.


	3. The Murdoch Diary, part 1, cont.

 

**The Murdoch Diary, part 1:**  
Sault-au-Récollet and SS Columbia,  
9 and 10 March 1900

_9th March. Friday._

The Columbia is a remarkable vessel. This morning James convinced a steward to allow us access to the mechanical decks. From the promenade deck, all is white with elegant beige funnels1, but aft and amidships, the elegance makes way for brute metal and coal dust. The boiler room, the steward would not let us enter, but through the dust and soot we glimpsed all its engineering strength. I am uncertain as to the reason for his hesitation, since he was convinced we were both some form of engineers. At least, James is. James posited later that we did not see the boilers possibly because of the filth, but also because we would have seen the state of the dozen or so men toiling below, feeding coal into the furnace. We were allowed to view the enormous twin screws that power the propellers. The noise was deafening. We are now once again in the library. James is reading what looks to be a history of ____. His mood is improved.

He still struggles to answer to his new name, I notice. When we were still in The Province of Quebec, he found it especially difficult. After To2, by the time the train reached Longueuil Station3, it became clear James could travel no further. I did not yet know then, but infection had set into his injured shoulder where our enemy had run through what I think was a steel bore. With the dehydration, in his already weakened state, we would not be able to flee any further without risking his life. Hiding was the appropriate course of action until he healed completely. It had been foolish to think we would have made our escape to Europe quickly. So once at Lngl4, I made a telephone call.

 

James is sleeping now and I am writing by the moonlight through the porthole of our cabin. Once in Lngl, I realized we should have stopped in Mtl5 directly. We needed help and we needed to hide for as long as James needed. No hotel in Montreal would provide that. I was desperate, I telephoned to an old school friend of mine from Jesuit College. F., now Father F, lived at the Jesuit Noviciate6 in the village of Sault au Recollet7 on the north of the Island of Mtl. I lied to him after a fashion, told him it was a police matter, that I needed a place to lay low with someone under my protection. He said he would take care of it, that all we needed was to make our way to the village, that the roads past the city limits were still passable despite the snow8. It was well banked on the roads and the coach we hired got there in the evening. He met us at the Noviciate gates. James’ fever only rose as we made our way out of the city, across miles of farmland until the first houses on Principal road appeared. The Noviciate

 

[page missing]

_10th March. Saturday._

Father F met us at the Noviciate gates, climbed into the coach with us and told the driver to go back up the road to the white house with the gray door9. This was the house we would be staying in for the length of James’ convalescence, however long it took. The house belonged to a recent widow who would be spending the winter with family on the South Shore with her young children. The Noviciate was expecting to be given the house outright, or they planned the purchase, I’m not certain which and never bothered to ask. F assured me we would not be disturbed. The village had a doctor, and he paid us a visit that evening.

The story we told villagers went thus: we were both recent widowers, hurt in a recent accident on our way to Quebec City. But our state of health demanded we convalesce in peace. F agreed to spread the story. He asked I not enquire how he convinced his superiors to give us shelter, and I did not.

 

The weather turned today and the Atlantic Ocean shows its might. My father would call it choppy seas I believe. The Columbia is a marvellous ship. It navigates the waves with stability and ease. No doubt my father’s schooner, had it been full size, we would be tossed about. As it is, only the weakest of stomachs among the 1st class Passengers seem a little green. I would not want to be below deck with the 3rd class today, I fully admit.

James was quiet today. Not exactly melancholy. He seems contemplative. Most likely my reflective mood is rubbing off. He asked what I am writing today at lunch. I told him.

 

Within half a week of our arrival at Sault Au Recollet, not only did the entire village know of our existance [ _sic._ ], but our names and a version of our story built on rumour and deduction. They knew us as James Beckett from Toronto (un Anglais, they called him10) and his French Canadian butler William Gagnon11. They agreed that I had spent most of my life in Ontario, explaining my more English inflections and errors when speaking French with them. We had been widowed in a train wreck “out West” in one version, and had chosen to spend our mourning and convalescence in tranquility. It seems we were not very unusual visitors to the Sault; since the arrival of the tramway in 189312, quite a few Messieurs Bourgeois had bought summer homes here, turning it into a bit of a resort in the warm month. The mayor13, whom I met at church weekly, is inordinately proud of the village’s wood sidewalks, though his pride is not completely misplaced. The villagers were welcoming to a fault, respectful of our grief and so far as I know never suspected they had been lied to. Not the Jesuits either, nor the Priests of St. Gabriel14 who run the village school or the Sulpicians of the Parish church15, not the good Holy Heart nuns16 who sent us sucre a la crême fudge [ _sic_.] weekly within ten days of our arrival.

 

 

1\. In 1900, the chimney funnels on Hamburg-America ships were beige with a black band.  
2\. Toronto.  
3\. Longueuil is situated on the South Shore of the St. Lawrence River, directly across downtown Montréal, QC.  
4\. Longueuil.  
5\. Montréal.  
6\. We could not identify Father F. No priest with this initial served at the Noviciat Saint-Joseph at Sault-au-Récolet in 1900. The institution was founded in 1852 and remained in operation as the Jesuits’ main school for recruits until 1969. The building still stands on Gouin boulevard in the arrondissement Ahuntsic-Cartierville in Montréal and houses the Collège Mont-Saint-Louis.  
7\. The village of Sault-au-Récollet was founded in 1696 and was named for the French Récollet priest Nicolas Viel who drowned in the rapids in the Prairie River in 1625. It was an Indian mission until the early 1700s. A number of buildings from the 18th and early 19th centuries still stand and the old village is now a protected historic area.  
8\. In 1900, most of the territory on the Island of Montreal was still farmland. Outside of Montréal proper and its immediate suburbs, the island was dotted by a number of rural villages, some of which were turning into summer resort areas, notably Sainte-Anne-de-Bellevue (then referred to as St. Ann) and Sault-au-Récolet.  
9\. We could not identify the exact house. We know from later mentions that the house stood between the Jesuit Noviciate and Visitation-du-Sault-au-Récollet parish church, possibly on what is now Lambert street.  
10\. This monicker was a common way for French Canadians to refer to Anglophones in Canada, especially but not exclusively those from British extraction. This monicker was widely used well into the mid-twentieth century. James Pendrick would be the epitome of an “Anglais”: White, English-speaking, and of Protestant extraction.  
11\. Though Murdoch’s fluency in French is a well-known fact, this sentence indicates that he spoke the language almost as well as a native. Steve Gunn, in his biography of Murdoch, found that the Detective consistently gave the reason for his French-language fluency as having studied with Jesuits in New Brunswick. The main issue here is that there were no Jesuit houses of education in that province during Murdoch’s lifetime. Gunn posits that Murdoch may have been taught by one or more Jesuit priests who had left the Society of Jesus in order to become secular priests in an unidentified New Brunswick parish. There are a few examples of such priests in New Brunswick in the second half of the nineteenth century, though Gunn could not identify Murdoch’s mentor or mentors. See Gunn, _Our Own Sherlock_ (Toronto: UTP, 1999), chap. 2.  
12\. Murdoch is incorrect by two years: Montreal Park  & Island inaugurated tramway line 24 in 1895.  
13\. Émile Delorme, who was mayor in 1897-1902.  
14\. The Frères de Saint-Gabriel were invited by Archbishop Bruchési to settle in Québec in 1888 and moved to Sault-au-Récolet in 1891. They built a noviciate near the Jesuits and opened a primary school immediately.  
15\. In 1900, as with most parish churches on the Island of Montréal, Sulpician priests were responsible for and own the Visitation-du-Sault-au-Récollet parish church, first built in 1749 and expanded several times in the 19th century.  
16\. The Dames du Sacré-Coeur convent was established in 1855. They ran several institutions in the village, notably a school for girls which is still open.


	4. The Mudoch Diary, part 1 cont.

**The Murdoch Diary, part 1:**

Sault-au-Récollet and SS Columbia,

11 and 12 March 1900

 

_11 th March. Sunday._

 

I took Mass today. The ship’s chaplain is Anglican, but there is a Cistercian on board, and the Chaplain agreed to let him serve those of us Catholic passengers. An especially generous offer, rather rare occurrence to be of note.

 

James was bed-ridden until Christmas. I was back on my feet fairly quickly, but it was not the case for him. The entire ordeal, the wound at his shoulder festering and sapping his strength, the shock of our flight, even the basic nature of our accommodations all combined to slow his recovery. I still catch him flinching when someone addresses him as Mr. Beckett. He made a joke Monday that he should have chosen an anagram of his full name instead. I asked him what he meant by it but he changed the subject. By Christmas, he was anxious. He was mostly healed but Cabin fever has set in. I remember it well from my time as a logger. Short days and the cold will eat away at most people. For us, the timing was unfortunate. The winter was far from over with the grim and frost of February still to come. We were both in a bad mood.

Nevertheless, I had been accepted in the village as one of their own, le butler canadien they said, and I was able to move about the village with smiles and hellos rather than ceaseless questions. Despite myself, I made friends. Old Mr. P owner of the General store1 and, inexplicably, the Ice Merchant G2. The curé3 was a frequent visitor too, I think mostly to convince me to make Confession and take Communion. I went to Mass on Sundays, of course, but I will not lie in Confession, so I refrained. I continued to disappoint him for the entirety of our stay. He gifted me a copy of his history of the Parish4, from its earliest days as an Indian mission in the times of New France to the present. It was published two years ago with a fine red cloth cover. I found him too inclined to accept interventions of Providence over more scientific explanations, but that is no surprise. I regret leaving it behind.

To keep occupied during the short dark days of winter, we paid Mr. P to ensure we got all the Montreal and Toronto papers. The former we received daily and the latter weekly, brought back from the city to us by a young man who works there but returns home every Sunday. In late January, James was well enough that we would sometimes avail ourselves of the tramway line on warmer days. We attended a few public lectures at McGill5, notably one by Doctor Osler6. But we could not partake in many paid entertainments, since neither of us were employed and we only had what money I had taken with me from To. (We were only able to access James’s Mtl accounts two weeks ago.) We did take in a play at the Theater français7 [ _sic._ ] and two concerts at the Academy of Music8. In February Father F also took me to a boxing match, at the Monument National9. James refused to come. Despite the more than abundant entertainment in English in the city, we chose to cultivate our French.

Overall, our stay at Sault au Récolet [ _sic_.] was dark, slow and melancholy, with short moments of energy and wonder. Mr. P’s store kept us well stocked in paper and ink, and F loaned us a set of drafting tools from the Noviciate. We needed to “lay low” as G 10 would say and our need to save money did not allow James or I to tinker at all. Any new ideas James had during our stay has to remain paper dreams for the foreseeable future.

 

_12 th March. Monday._

Clear skies today. James spent the entire day on the Promenade deck bundled in heavy blankets taking in the pale sun like a tuberculosis patient. It’s frightfully cold on deck, but James would not be deterred. I took lunch alone.

It occurs to me we missed the Lord Stanley’s Championship finals. Father F was looking forward to it and hoped the Montreal Shamrocks would win against all other teams11. There is no way to know today. Perhaps in Paris we can find access to Canadian newspapers. We left Mtl on the first present under heavy snow and I wonder how long the storm lasted12. I find myself wondering about all the news we missed. The news we will miss. Once in France, newspapers will be our only link to home. Maybe these are the questions marring James’ mood.

 

He spoke to me after dinner. Attempted to explain his behaviour, his mood. He is confused. He tells me he is not as well as he expected to be once we were finally on our way to Europe. He expected to feel free of all our travails once we boarded the ship. He thought the thrill of adventure would return and we could remake ourselves replacing the pain of what we have lost. He spent all day in the bracing cold looking inward in search of that spark in his heart. He tells me he did not quite find it.

His affections for me have returned. We had not touched in this way in quite some time. I refuse to admit I have counted the days. But now that he sleeps and I write these words by the light of the near-full moon, I wonder if he did not try to distract himself in the pleasures of the flesh.

 

 

 

 

1\. Théophile Paquet (1830-1903), owner of the Magasin général in the village and at times member of the Municipal council. The store building, first opened in 1865, still stands today on Gouin boulevard.

2\. Most likely Eugène Gagnon (?-1959). Why would his friendship be inexplicable is not clear. In all probability, Gagnon would have been somewhat younger than Murdoch, but not of a vastly different age or social class.

3\. Charles-Philippe Beaubien (1843-1914), parish priest at Visitation-du-Sault-au-Récollet church from 1890.

4\. Charles-P. Beaubien, _Le Sault-au-Récollet. Ses rapports avec les premiers temps de la colonie. Mission – Paroisse_ (Montréal: Beauchemin, 1898).

5\. McGill University.

6\. Doctor William Olser (1843-1919), Canadian physician of world renown, founding professor of Johns Hopkins Medical school. Notably he innovated by focussing on bedside clinical training for medical students and was often considered the best diagnostician of his time.

7\. Le Théâtre français, founded in 1885, stood near the corner of Saint-Laurent and Sainte-Catherine streets. Originally planned as a skating rink, the theatre specialized in French-language plays, with a particular interest in French classical theatre.

8\. The Academy of Music (1875-1910) was a popular venue on Victoria street, which catered to both the Francophone and Anglophone bourgeois and middle classes.

9\. Le Monument national (1893 to today) was a modern venue capable of seating 1620 spectators when it was opened under the auspices of the St. Jean Baptiste Society of Montréal. It focussed primarily on entertainment for French Canadians, whether classical or popular, whether theatre or variety, as well as boxing.

10\. Possibly George Crabtree.

11\. The Montreal Shamrocks did win the Challenge Cup, as the Stanley Cup was known then, on March 7th, 1900, against the Halifax Crescent in Montréal.

12\. A record-setting 46 cm fell on Montréal on March 1st, 1900.


	5. The Murdoch Diary, part 1, cont.

**The Murdoch Diary, part 1:**

**Sault-au-Récollet and SS Columbia,**

**13 and 14 March 1900**

 

_13 th  March. Tuesday _

Today we met with the ship’s First Officer. Our status as 2 nd  class passengers precludes us from ever meeting the Captain, but our questions about the vessel (mostly James’ pestering of the stewards) brought us to his attention. Again, our adopted identities worked in our favour. Much as it was in the village, the two widowers with an interest for engineering and a need for distraction let us to have both lunch and dinner at the First Officer’s table, and access to full schematics of the ship. James is currently pouring over the specifications and making Torque calculations. Apparently the ship’s twin screws should transfer motion much more efficiently than they currently do. This branch of engineering is far above my scientific ability and I am content to observe. At the moment, James smiles genuinely, there is true excitement for the first time in more weeks than I care to count. It is late. The ships’s library will close soon and we may need to move to one of the smoking rooms. There are two that remain open through the night, welcoming gentlemen with the promise of warmth, leather chairs, fine alcohol and no wives. The aft promenade smoking room has two large desks.

 

_14 th  March. Wednesday. _

James is lying to me. Or perhaps he is lying to himself. The ship’s plans and our relations are a distraction. I understand his need to forget the reasons behind our predicament — why we are on this vessel in the first place. I too am tempted to get lost in these simple pleasures. I feel the loss it as much as he does. In most ways that count, we have lost everything, our occupations, our friends, our prospects. Yet I find myself looking forward to the challenge of starting over. I am uncertain about how James feels about this. Not well. I’ve brought up the topic and he has an elaborate plan for us to settle in Paris, but there is no excitement. True, he suffered the most at the hands of our enemy and took the longest to recover. His left shoulder will never be the same. But he is also the man I found the best equipped for starting over. When a venture fails, he begins another. He has done this countless times in the past. When his wife stole the Rembrandt and his lost his share in the high rise, he recovered. Even after the rape, he recovered 1  . How is our current predicament so different? Is it that we are leaving Canada? Is it that he left his patents and reputation? Or the house and workshop? James assures me that his love has not changed and that our commitment to eachother [ _sic._ ] is strong. The same is true for me. I vow to help him through this. We are to begin another life in Paris and we will be together for it, if he will have me. I simply wish I knew how to help him. He has recovered from the physical injuries. He “bounced back” like he has before. What is different? If the most intimate of violations could not break him, what has happened since our enemy that could have broken him now? I cannot find a way to formulate questions that wouldn’t make everything worse. Until I find a way. In the meantime I will simply humbly love him as I must.

 

 

 

1\. There is no indication of a rape, or any form of sexual violence, related to James Pendrick in the historical record. Nevertheless, Murdoch’s sentence strongly implies that Pendrick was the victim of a rape. There is a police report associated with the Sally Hubbard investigation and arrest that speaks of a physical assault Pendrick suffered in his home in the days prior to Hubbard’s attempted arson of the Pendrick estate. Perhaps the extent of this assault was kept quiet? For more information on Sally Hubbard’s criminal career including her many crimes against Pendrick, see Sarah Burke, “Sally Hubbard, From Seduction to Treason,” PhD thesis in History, University of Toronto, 1982.


	6. The Murdoch Diary, part 1, cont.

**The Murdoch Diary, part 1:**

**Sault-au-Récollet and SS Columbia,**

**15 and 16 March 1900**

 

_ 15 th March, Thursday. _

We stopped at Southampton during the night. The vessel is half empty. Most of the remaining passengers are either Germans or Frenchmen. All are eager to make landfall.

The stewart [ _sic._ ] tells us we will be arriving at Cherbourg tomorrow. I am uncertain why we are taking all this time. We made good time despite the choppy seas (his words) earlier in the crossing.

James is trying to keep his spirits up today. His smiles are ever present but they are tight. He has our transit to Paris planned and agrees with me that we will need to find employment in occupations that will support our new identities, inconspicuous ones, but that we’ll need to find them quickly. He is feigning enthusiasm, most likely in response to my prodding yesterday, but he is trying. I wish I knew what it was exactly that made our flight more difficult than his – our – previous difficulties. I am no stranger to starting over myself, to loss. I am mourning as much as he is. I ache to know the fate of our friends, but somehow it is not as difficult for me than it is for my beautiful James. Did I have less to lose? No, that cannot be, since we lost equally. We lost the life we had built together.

I do regret leaving the Sault-au-Récollet like we did. We arranged for a coach to fetch us in the middle of the night on February 26 th and we left the house with the gray door without a note or a goodbye. F in particular was an immeasurable ally to us; he never knew the truth or the depth of our lies to him, while he asked for nothing from us in return.

Perhaps, a few years from now, when all is settled and no more risk can come to us or our friends, I will be able to let him know. This is unlikely. Perhaps it is the finality of our situation that hurts James the most.

 

_ 16 th March. Friday. _

We dock around noon. The coast is visible from our porthole and we are required to leave our cabin in a few minutes. We have a hotel room at Cherbourg from tonight, though I would not have minded taking the train to Paris directly. James plans for us to stay here at least for a day, so he may make arrangements for us in Paris. I am uncertain what he means exactly. He was responsible for the entire escape plan in the first place and intentionally did not share most of it with me. He asks me to trust him again, which is self evident. Of course I trust him. I have not talent for barely legal schemes. I am grateful every day that he has chosen an honest life. A keen intellect such as his would have created a formidable villain if he had been so inclined. No wonder I once thought him a criminal mastermind. He has a talent for such schemes. Ironically, we are fugitives from the law, after a fashion.

By tomorrow, I will know the form of James’s plan. Once we are established in Paris, I will have a better ability to lead, if only because my French is superior to his. He knows science and engineering in the language of course; I am simply fluent. I am also more liable to find employment, and more quickly so. I have adaptable skills in a way that my inventing engineer has not. 

I must stop here, the steward is announcing we must vacate the deck.

I hope to continue this journal upon our arrival. In the meantime, God look upon us.


	7. The Murdoch Diary, part 2

**The Murdoch Diary, part 2:**

**Paris**

**29 March and 2** **nd** **April 1900**

 

_29 th  March, Thursday. _

The last 13 days have been hectic. As planned, we stayed in Cherbourg over night in a very modest hotel where we took two rooms. Cherbourg is lovely once outside the Harbour (which is massive for such a small town) and its industrial quarter (which is as dirty as anywhere). James spent most of the night and the next day there on the telephone while I took in the sights. The Basilica is a lovely but timeworn 15 th  century building1 . So many buildings here are twice, thrice as old as anything in Canada. It is humbling.

James busied himself telephoning with brokers of his acquaintance. He worked to divest himself of his Paris apartment near the Jardins du Luxenburg 2  [ _sic_ .] and to transfer the account he held there under his real name and move the money to another under our new identity. His plan was for us to secure a small apartment for us in a more modest arrondissement giving us anonymity. It was good plan, which unfolded without problem, though it took more time than we were comfortable with. His apartment was sold in eight days, and the next day we took possession of a small 3  rd  floor apartment in a 4-floor building on a good street in the quarter of La Chapelle  3  . It is all that we need and I am already quite attached to it. Though it is immensely larger than my rooms back in To before I began sharing my life with James, it is quite modest. We have two small bedrooms and a common room with a stove and a small table. All in all it is smaller than the music room back ~~home~~ in Toronto.

Our representation at the Police Prefecture 4  went well. The officer did not doubt our documentation and we have the necessary residence permit. Our stay here is not in question.

We have not yet secured employment and that is a worry, but we have transportation. We purchased two used bicycles. They are ugly old things but they serve us well enough. We have fixed a few of our neighbours’s bicycles, for small compensations, after we were seen fixing ours. We charge less than the nearest mechanic, evidently. James says that such exchanges are the only way to make friends as rapidly, other than to own a dog. We already are known as Les Canadiens.

There are ~~only~~ so many bicycles to repair. I am fairly versatile, but James is not. For all his scientific knowledge and engineering genius, he as no talent for a physical occupation. To wit, he posted advertisements in the La Croix  5  and the Figaro  6  as a private tutor in English, German and the sciences. He says it is better to broaden the field by choosing a conservative Catholic newspaper and a liberal paper. He knows Paris better than I do, even as my French is better than his. He is getting better by the day. As for me, I have what I think is an interview at the Banque de Paris et Pays-Bas  7  for an entrance lever accountant. The letter calls it an examination. For this, I have to thank our new neighbour Mme M (who lives on ground floor). She is an elderly lady, a lovely woman with obvious breeding but little money, who took a shine to us immediately. She says that James reminds her of her late husband whom she lost in the troubles of ‘48  8 . She told me of the openings at the Banque.

In anticipation for the examination, I finally bought myself a hat. I lost mine in To and had been wearing on of James’ more sedate ones. I do not mind wearing his clothing. It is in fact quite pleasant, but there is nothing more intimate than a hat.

I had read that Spring in Paris was beautiful. It is true that the weather is lovely, but I find Paris unaccountably noxious. I am shocked. Many buildings on our street do not have plumbing and their facilities are in the courtyard. Some of our neighbours don’t use them at night and empty chamber pots in the street every morning. A sight I had not witnessed since my youth in New Brunswick. We share facilities with Mr. R on our floor.

 

_2 nd  April 1900, Monday. _

I started at the Bank this morning. I am one of a dozen accountants on a floor of desks. Our role is to verify records books, flag mistakes, but not to ever posit a cause for any discrepancy, nor to correct them. I am only a Vérificateur 9  . If a column is incorrect, we are to flag it by inserting an annotated bookmark and send it up the Correcteurs  10  . The pay is slim, I calculate that it is equivalent to what I made as a constable, but it is a salary and there is room here for advancement. My supervisor has already told me “Vous irez loin  11 ”. As of today, James has not found any clients.

 

 

1\. Basilique Sainte-Trinité, a gothic building finished in the mid-15th century, on foundations of previous churches dating as far back as the 9 th  century.

2\. The Jardin du Luxembourg, a public park in the Quartier Latin in the 6 th  arrondissement. Built in 1612, originally the park was the private garden of the Palais du Luxembourg (which now houses the French Senate). The entire neighbourhood is expensive to live in and sought after.

3\. In the 18 th  arrondissement in the North end of Paris, the Quartier de la Chapelle was originally a working-class village absorbed in the Parisian expansion in 1860. It remained a primarily working-class neighbourhood in 1900, well outside tourist attractions.

4\. Since 1870, the law requires that any foreigner wishing to take up permanent residence within Paris city limits must, within 15 days of arrival, declare their intention at the Passports and Foreigners Office at the Parisian Police headquarters, then and now situated on the Island of la Cité in the 1 st  arrondissement, at 36, Quai des Orfèvres. After an examination of identification documents and forms, one received a residency permit good for one year. The process has little changed to this day.

5\. _La Croix_ , a daily French Catholic newspaper, founded in 1883.

6\. _Le Figaro_ , a daily French newspaper, founded in 1826. It has historically showed nationalist centre-right leanings. Decidedly less liberal than Pendrick realized.

7\. Also known as Banque Paribas, it was an investment institution, founded in 1872, and headquartered at 3, rue d’Antin in the 3 rd  arrondissement. In the early 1900s, it was the sight of a few financial scandals. It merged with the Banque nationale de Paris (BNP) in 1999 to become BNP-Paribas.

8\. France was the site of two political revolutions in 1848, both centred in Paris, though similar political upheavals occurred all over Europe that year. In February, a popular nationalist and republican movement successfully ended the constitutional monarchy of Louis-Phillipe and led to the creation of the Second Republic under the leadership of the bourgeois classes. By June, months of economic uncertainty, wealthy citizens having massively chosen to empty their bank accounts, led to closures and massive unemployment. Unrest spread as a larger proportion of the working classes turn from the existing government, leading to outright insurrection on 20-25 June. Massive repression ensued, leading to thousands of deaths, tens of thousands wounded and nearly ten thousand exiled to Algeria.

9\. Literally, “checker.”

10\. Literally, “corrector.”

11\. “You will go far.”

 


	8. The Murdoch Diary, part 2, cont.

**The Murdoch Diary, part 2**

**Paris**

**10 and 15 April, 1900**

 

 _10 April, Tuesday_.

The World Exhibition opens to the public on Sunday and we are very much looking forward to it. The city is teaming with scientists and inventors, many of James’s acquaintance. Tickets for the Fair are 1 franc each. We are working on a budget to allow us 4 francs a week to visit as much as we can cover during the summer. We obtained an interesting touring guide, published by the pneumatic tire maker Michelin 1  . It is bright red and well done but of little use to us without a motor car. Hachette publishes a better guide that is much more complete  2 .

The Exhibition site is still closed, there are already many fine lectures being presented. Last night, we sat in the main hall of the Académie des Sciences where Paul Villard presented a fine paper on the rays emitted by radium and the use of cathode rays in their analysis 3 . James mused that we may have lost our lives this year but we did not lose knowledge. It is a bitter thought.

I continue à the Banque and have fallen into a useful routine. James has found a pupil, a young boy, son of an Italian.

War against the Boers again 4  . Famine in India  5  . With of our Science, why do we still kill eachother [ _sic._ ]?

 

 _15_ _th_ _April, Easter Sunday_.

Exposition Universelle opens today.

I met James at the Porte Binet exhibition entrance after Mass. It is the most monumental entrance to the Exhibition grounds. He had gone there to be among the first in.

Easter mass was soothing. Saint Denis church 6  – from the 13  th  century! – was resplendent as it should be on the most Blessed day of the Sacred year. Yet it was rather empty, on account of the Exhibition I gather. I did not take Communion, since I cannot make confession. I am broken-hearted, but I cannot imagine finding a priest here as understanding as Father Lanahan  7 . Confessing in the silence of my heart is all I can hope for. Perhaps I could find absolution in the Reformed Church, but this would be a greater betrayal than I am willing to make.

The Exposition is beyond description. Pavillions [ _sic_.] and exhibit halls rival the most grandiose architecture in the world, but they were built of wood, concrete and plastered jute! They will be torn down in the Fall.

Today we tried the mechanical sidewalk8, “the street of the Future” where the sidewalks move for us. The circuit is a little over a miles and a half long and stands above ground, giving us an excellent view of the whole site. We made a list of the bigger marvels we wish to visit most urgently.

-the Grand roue9

-the Sidérostat10

\- the Celestial Globe11

James is also making a list of the most promising demonstrations and lectures. There are quite a few national exhibits I wish to see as well. It is a fortuitous time to live in Paris.

 

 

 

1\. Michelin published its first guide in 1900, which was given for free at garages, tire and petrol sellers.

2\. Murdoch may be referring to _Paris Exposition 190_ _0._ _Guide Pratique de l'Exposition Universelle de Paris 1900_ (Paris, Hachette, 1900), 486p. Hachette also published that year Paul Joanne, _Paris et ses environs et un appendice sur l’exposition universelle_ (Paris, Hachette, 1900). 500p.

3\. Villard was presenting on what would later be identified as gamma rays. Paul Villard, “Sur la réflexion et la réfraction des rayons cathodiques et des rayons déviables du radium,” presented 9 April 1900, Académie des Sciences, Paris.

4\. The Second Boer War, 11 October 1899 – 31 May 1902.

5\. The famine in the north on India, in 1899 and 1900, killed between 1 and 4.5 millions individuals, and garnered an unprecedented international relief effort.

6\. Saint-Denys-de-la-Chapelle was built in 1240 on the site of a roman temple dedicated to Bacchus. Joan of Arc is said to have spent a night of prayer there in 1429. Still situated at 16, rue de la Chapelle today, we can posit that if this was Murdoch’s parish church, he lived within a few blocks from it. Later mentions of businesses tend to confirm this hypothesis.

7\. A Father Roan Lanahan was one of the priests serving at the semi-rural St. Joseph parish of Leslieville, east of Toronto, from 1890 to 1901. Father Hugh Joseph Canning was pastor in 1899 at the time of the men’s disappearance. We can posit that this was Murdoch’s preferred place of worship in Toronto, despite the fact it stood nearly 35 km from Rosedale; Murdoch implies that Lanahan knew of his sexual orientation. Further, following the church building’s destruction by arson in 1898, Murdoch was put in charge on the investigation and no other than James Pendrick spearheaded the reconstruction project. Their disappearance in 1899 put a temporary stop to the project, but the new building was finally inaugurated in 1909. The building was replaced with the current church in 1958.

8\. The “Rue de l’Avenir” was a wooden rolling sidewalk three kilometres long circulating the Exhibition grounds between the Les Invalides palace and the Seine river.

9\. This ferris wheel was a 100 metres in diameter and stood on de Suffren street until 1922, when it was disassembled. It was the tallest of its kind at the time.

10\. Also known as La Grande lunette, it was a large optical instrument invented by astronomer Léon Foucault (best-known for the eponymous pendulum). It consisted of a flat mirror that was turned slowly by a motor to reflect a given region of the sky continuously into a fixed telescope. It housed two 1.25 metre lenses. It was dismantled in 1909.

11\. Le Globe céleste was a large sphere 45 metres in diameter with a walkway circling its top. It sat on an 18 meter high base with four pillars that housed stairways and elevators. Outside, it represented constellations and the zodiac. Inside, visitors could sit to watch astronomical panoramas on its inner surface.


	9. The Murdoch Diary, part 2, cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Murdoch Diary, part 2:  
> Paris  
> 21, undated, and 24 April, 1900

_ 21 April, Saturday _ .

 

Famine in India is worse than initially reported. The war against the Boers continues and there is war in Tchad 1 , and the Boxer Rebellion 2 is deadlier with each report. Mme M tells me that not only did  she lose her beloved Fernand in 1848, she lost her one and only son in the Commune 3 , at a barricade just a few streets from here. Man is a vicious creature.

We took two cinematographic shows today. The Lumière Bros4 projected on the biggest screen ever devised, 21 meters! James asked how they had managed to project at this size without incinerating the celluloid. August Lumière was answered vaguely and only stated it had to do with the refraction index of the lens. It is obviously only part of their solution and makes little sense on its own, but we posit he does not want their accomplishments to be reproduced by ‘some Americans’, by which he means Edison5 no doubt. I can understand why he suspected James: he does sound like an American when he speaks French. They were also said to be presenting examples of film in colour, but not today.

The other show was at the Photo-cinéma-théâtre6 at the other end of the Exposition grounds. Mr. Gaumont presented scenes featuring many celebrities, the only one of which we knew of was Sarah Bernhardt7. If the normal screen size did not impress us, the electric phonograph which was coupled to the projector certainly did. Cinema with sound! The technology is yet cumbersome, but I can easily imagine all theaters using sound technology in the coming few years. James tells me Edison is working on a similar system and he cannot tell whom of Gaumont or Edison stole the idea from whom. As I write this, late into the evening, he is jotting down ideas from ameliorating sound delivery. We agreed that the sound is Gaumont’s system is only well heard by those nearest the photograph and that large theaters could not use such technology effectively as of yet.

 

 

_Undated_

Our bakery has been opened since the 18th century8. Incredible.

 

 

_ 24 April, Tuesday _ .

I learned something interesting today. I was commenting on the odd impression I had that there were always more children in the streets on Thursdays when they should be in school and all my floor colleagues burst laughing for the better part of five minutes. There are indeed more children in the streets on Thursdays because they do not have school on Thursdays. Rather, they go to school on the Saturday, instead. Not having children ourselves and there being no children in our building, only bachelors, we could not have known. When I informed my co-workers that in Canada children stay home on the Saturday and Sunday consecutively, they groaned in horror. Paul __ called Canadians uncivilized and unusually cruel, blamed the English for it, for forcing our children to go to school for 5 days straight without rest. 9

 

 

1\. At the time, France had been engaged in a colonial war in Tchad against native forces. Resistance forces were crushed and Tchad was annexed as French territory in September 1900.

2\. The Boxer Rebellion is a complex and multi-fronted, anti-foreign, anti-colonial and anti-Christian uprising taking place in China between 1899 and 1901. “Boxers” refers to the practitioners of Chinese martial arts who composed the resistance forces. The latter resented foreign commercial and political interference and corruption, notably foreign involvement in the opium trade. By the end of the conflict, colonial forces composed of British Empire troops, among others, and with American aid, crushed the “rebels” and marked the end of the Qing Dynasty.

3\. The Paris Commune was a radical socialist and revolutionary government that ruled Paris from 18 March to 28 May 1871 in the aftermath of the end of the Second French Empire in September 1870. For the better part of Spring 1871, Paris was under siege and the streets were mired by popular barricades, notably in the La Chapelle neighbourhood. The Commune forces were crushed by the French Regular Army in the later week of May 1871, known as the Bloody Week. Between ten and twenty thousand individuals were killed in the conflict.

4\. August (1864-1848) and Louis Lumière (1862-1954) were among the world’s first film makers, coined the word “cinematograph” and are credited for many notable advances in cinematic technology. During the 1900 Exhibition, they innovated with one of the biggest screens used to date, 21 by 6 meters, as well as with colour, using a subtractive colour process known as the 'bichromated glue' process.

5\. Léon Gaumont (1864-1946) was among the world’s first film makers and is credited with many advances in cinematic technology, including some of the first narrative movies. At the 1900 Exhibit, he presented an early version of his  _ Chronophone _ system (patented in 1902) that synchronized a cinematograph projector to a phonograph using an early form of switchboards.

6\. Thomas Edison (1847-1931) was a world renown entrepreneur and serial inventor who, among dozens of other inventions, was also among the world’s first film makers.

7\. Sarah Bernhardt (1864-1923) was a world-famous French stage actress, known for playing both male and female parts. She went of several theatrical tours around the world, and was one of the first prominent actresses to make sound recordings and to act in motion pictures.

8\. This may be the Boulangerie Chamat, situated one door down from Saint-Denys-de-la-Chapelle church, the façade of which in contemporary photographs boasts having been founded in 1779.

9\. Indeed, from the 19 th century to 1972, primary schooling in France took place on Monday to Wednesday and Friday to Saturday. From 1969, primary schooling on Saturday afternoons was abolished. In 1972, the school rest day moved to Wednesday. Today, there is no primary schooling on Saturdays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lull in updates. In August, I suffered a "medication mishap" (let's call it that) and afterward was away in the woods with no cell service. We should now return to the previous expeditious schedule.


	10. The Murdoch Diary, part 2, cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Murdoch Diary, part 2:  
>  Paris  
> 26 and 28 April, 1900

_26 April, Thursday._

My fellow proofers at the Bank spent most of the day asking me if there were kids around. I imagine they thought it funny.

 

 

 _28 April, Saturday_.

Writing before Church on the Sunday.

Last night we were strolling back to our bicycles after visiting this Exhibition – still the Concessions scientifiques1, though I would not mind going to the national pavilions soon for a change – we passed under the 300 Meter Tower2, where we witnessed the most peculiar sight of three elderly well-dressed gentlemen in top hats and coat tails, engaged in a three-way shouting match. More peculiar was James’s reaction of infinite mirth. The gentlemen were arguing about metal alloys, of all things, and none too politely, and gathering quite a crowd. James recognized them instantly, but only informed me of their identity when he managed to stop laughing when the oldest of the three left in a huff, the gathered public parting like the Red Sea at his exit.

We had witnessed the end of a rare and most-specialized engineering debate between France’s best-known modern architects, no other than Armand Moisant3, Jules Bourdais4 and Gustave Eiffel5 himself. I only knew of the latter until last night, and we were standing under his greatest creation at the time. James tells me we will need to visit the others’ respective great works. Trocadero Palace6 for Bourdais; Apparently, he lost a bid for construction of the tower Mr. Eiffel built. James calls Moisant the most proficient in the design of modern metal-framed buildings, and who James admires the most, but I know his preference for metal structures since structural engineering is his own specialty. He listed a host of Parisian buildings we should see some day. We did not linger after the debate fizzled, James was not willing to chance being recognized by Bourdais, whom he met twice before. As we cycled home, James recounted how Moisant’s building of the Bon Marché7 was “messed up” by Eiffel when the latter “intervened” in the building’s extension. I did not know how petty engineers could be.

 

 

1\. The scientific section of the Paris Exhibition grounds in 1900 flanked the Champ-de-Mars garden park on three sides, with the large Gallerie des machines and its elaborate waterworks (Château d’eau) facing the Eiffel Tower at the other end of the garden park.

2\. The Eiffel Tower, built for the 1889 Paris Universal Exhibition, was originally called the “Tour de 300 mètres” and was only beginning to be habitually referred to as Eiffel Tower at the turn of the 20th century.

3\. Armand Moisant (1838-1906), engineer and architect. Specialized in large metal-framed buildings and contributed the most buildings for the 1900 Exhibition.

4\. Jules Bourdais (1835-1915), engineer and architect. Bourdais was favourite for the design of a monumental column _cum_ lighthouse to be built for the 1889 exhibition until Gustave Eiffel proposed his famous metal tower.

5\. Gustave Eiffel (1832-1923), engineer, architect and industrialist. He and his firm designed and built hundreds of buildings and structures all over the world, the most famous arguably being the Eiffel Tower (1889) and the base of New York’s Statue of Liberty (1886).

6\. Co-designed by Jules Bourdais and Gabriel Davioud, Trocadero Palace was built for the 1878 Universal Exhibition. Always a contested building, it and its gardens were modified for the 1900 Exhibition and finally torn down in 1937 to make way for buildings for the 1937 Special Exhibition.

7\. Le Bon Marché (originally called Au Bon Marché until 1989) is one of Paris’s oldest department stores. Founded in 1838, it was expanded in 1869 by architect Alexandre Laplanche, and expanded again in 1872 by architect Louis-Charles Boileau (1837-1914) and engineer Armand Moisant. A further expansion occurred in 1879, in which Gustave Eiffel was involved, though Moisant was the primary structural engineer for all works on the structure from 1870 to 1887. Le Bon Marché is still open today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama begins next chapter, folks.


	11. The Murdoch Diary, part 2, cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Murdoch Diary, part 2:  
> Paris  
> 29 April, [1 May] and [undated] 1900

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hurt, it begins.

_29 April, Sunday_

We finally managed to visit the Celestial Globe1. In every way it is a marvellous testament to Man’s genius and the wonders of the World. I am still in awe. A 45-meter sphere painted blue and gold sitting on an 18 meter base. The structure is so large as to necessitate escalators to ferry visitors to the garden platform, from which one has a wonderful view of the Exhibition grounds and the city past it. Even if it is dwarfed by Mr. Eiffel’s tower nearby, is remains stunning. Inside is the most stunning display. In the optimally lighted cavern, one sits in luxury on leather chairs to witness panoramas projected on the concave surface. We saw the most precise views of our solar system’s eight planets and far away constellations. The visitors are called “living room astronauts”2. Astronauts is a wonderful word, star navigators. James is certain Man will visit the stars one day soon.

 

[1 May], Tuesday Morning

Thank Heavens we visited the Globe on Sunday. Yesterday, less than a day after our visit, the walkway crossing the Seine and leading to its gardens collapsed!3 We walked on it on Sunday! The newspaper tells us there are victims. We are both shook.

No time to write about seeing Villard4 last night.

 

[undated May]

I have noticed James is morose. It is the only word I find applies. His face clouds over when he thinks I am not looking. Other than the clients with whom he spends time, teaching English, Mathematics and the Sciences, he remains at home, alone as far as I know, and goes on long solitary walks. I have offered we go to the public pool for a change of pace, but he flatly refused. Twice this week, Wednesday and Thursday, he returned home after long I did, well past eight, smelling of alcohol both times. For all the years we have know eachother [ _sic_.], I have never known him to drink in excess. Indeed, he has drunk less since we have been together, partaking sparingly, matching my own restraint. He never overly drinks in my presence even now and he is rarely overly late, but I must take note of any emerging patterns.

I thought he was getting better.

 

 

 

1\. See, 15 April, not 11.

2\. “Astronautes de fauteuil,” literally “chair-bound astronauts”. The exhibit's use of the word astronaut marks the first known use of the word in any language.

3\. On 31st April 1900, the reinforced concrete walkway leading to the Globe céleste collapsed over de Suffren street, killing eight people and injuring another ten. The inquiry over the incident in preparation for the trial found that architect and engineer Napoléon de Tédesco (1848-1922) was not responsible, but rather that excavations made by the city were too close to the walkway’s base, affecting its structural integrity.

4\. Possibly they met with or heard a talk by Paul Villard again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the date of the de Suffren walkway collapse for plot reasons. Mea maxima culpa.


	12. The Murdoch Diary, part 2, cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Murdoch Diary, part 2:  
> Paris  
> 17, 18, 19 and 20 May 1900

_17 May, Thursday_

James continues to drink. The past two weeks have made for a tense household. I have not managed to speak to him about it. To make matters worse, four of the ledgers I am normally tasked to proof have shown, in the same period, identical operations between accounts that should not be related. I do not want to write specifics here, but I have taken separate notes. I am concerned, as those operations should not be possible. However, as a mere vérificateur I am not allowed to enquire. I flagged the first of these operations as anomalous, but cannot know what came out of it. Or rather, I must deduce that nothing came out of my notice, since so many additional entries appeared since. Everything balances, there are no errors in accounting per se. All columns “add up”. But monies that disappear from one account, only to reappear, just as the same amounts appear elsewhere. I am no longer a detective.

 

_18 May, Friday_

James drinks. I smell alcohol on his breath nearly every night now. He tells me he is too tired for intimacies, yet when they occur, his love felt [ _sic_.] desperate last night. He became agitated when I hinted there is a need for us to talk. I’ve mentioned my concerns about work and he dismissed them brusquely. He won’t hear a word about any of it.

 

_19 May, Saturday_

James is the same. As of today, I have noted 17 identical transactions across four ledgers, involving eight accounts, all pertaining to lower profile governmental investments. Every column balances in the end. Money does not go missing per se, so much as is appears in places it should not go. My notes are in my desk at the bank. I have not chanced taking any papers with me out of the building.

 

_20 May, Sunday_

I fear for what life we are attempting to make for ourselves here since we arrived. Everything is still so new and yet it is falling around me. I left our apartment this morning for Church as is now my habit with the belief that I would meet James at the Monumental Gate1 around noon. He never arrived. After an hour of waiting, I made my way back to La Chapelle only to find our apartment in a mess and James gone. It was mid-afternoon and there were two empty wine bottles on our small table. Over the past 16 days by my count, his alcohol consumption had only worsened. Mme M came to tell me he now spends much of his time at Le ___, drinking liquor alone and growling at those who try to speak to him. She says he is not a violent drunk, nor does he become disordered, but she too is worried. She apologized for not having spoken sooner. As I write this, he has not returned and it is late. I don’t know if I should go there and bring him home. Why should the bistros here be opened on Sundays?

 

 

1\. The main entrance gate to the 1900 Exhibition grounds at the Place de la Concorde was designed by architect René Binet (1866-1911). It was 45 meters high, and was flanked by two columns referred to at the time as minarets. At its peak stood an allegorical statue of Parisian Woman. It was a stunning example of the then-emerging Art Nouveau style and was lighted by more than 3,200 coloured lights. The gate was torn down shortly after the Exhibition closure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets worse before it gets better.


	13. The Murdoch Diary, part 2, cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The Murdoch Diary, part 2:_  
>  Paris  
> 21 and 22 May 1900

_21 May, Monday_.

James returned well past midnight last night. I help my piece. He was too drunk to reason with in any case, I could tell from his breath and demeanour. He still slept when I left for work this morning, but was gone when I returned just now. As worried as I am for this well-being, I must face the fact we may have bigger problems. Tragic ones.

Inspector Marcel Guillaume1 was at the Bank this morning. He was with several gentlemen of the Sûreté de Paris2, including a Commissaire, named François Duponnois3, according to the citybook, confirming what I overheard. They were touring the floors with several members of the Board. I know Guillaume recognized me. His expression was unmistakable. We worked closely last year back in Toronto4 and neither of us has changed much, except that he has cut his hair. From the few words I caught, this is an investigation about anomalous transactions, no doubt those I noticed. Guillaume looked straight at me, showed surprised for a second, then smiled. I dare not wonder what he concludes about my presence. We are living in Paris under aliases with forged documents. We are fugitives from the law. And now a member of the city police knows of me.

Heavenly Father, give me strength. I am going in search of James.

 

James is home. It is already nearly morning. I found him at ____. He came back willingly, though he was too addled for me to explain our predicament, but he knows I must speak to him in the morning. I cannot sleep. St. Michael protect us5.

 

 

 _22 May, Tuesday_.

Had to leave before we spoke.

No sign of Marcel Guillaume or any other police officer today, but we were given the half day off. A large portion of our ledgers have been taken onto evidence. There are none to work on today. So I returned home just past noon, not long ago, and will write a clean copy of my own notes on the transactions for when Guillaume inevitably come knocking on our door. No doubt he will. Though I cannot hope much for our Future. At least, what is left of this Toronto Policeman will still serve the Law one last time.

James returns.

 

 

 

1\. Marcel Guillaume (1872-1963), arguably France’s most renown investigator and police officer. He became a commissaire of the Sûreté de Paris (see note 2 below) in 1913 and from 1928 began a career at divisional chief of the Judiciary police force in Paris, leading the Brigade criminelle from 1930 until his retirement in 1937. He is considered to have been one of the most successful police investigators in France’s modern history, and his most famous cases involved organized crime. In 1945, he was part of the group investigating Adolf Hitler’s suicide in Berlin. (see also note 4 below)

2\. The Sûreté de Paris is the predecessor to today’s Direction Régionale de Police Judiciaire de Paris, being the criminal investigative police of Paris. Founded in 1812, by the time the journal was written, it was headquartered at 36, Quai des Orfèvres. (see also 29 March, note 4)

3\. François Victor Amédée Duponnois, in 1900, was a commissaire of the Sûreté de Paris, i.e. the Parisian judiciary police force, and Marcel Guillaume’s father-in-law.

4\. Toronto Police archives show that Marcel Guillaume was in Canada in March 1899 and collaborated with William Murdoch in the capture of Jacqueline Chiasson, a serial murderer who had escaped arrest and prosecution in France by taking an alias in Toronto. It is interesting to note that those same case files refer to Guillaume variably as an “Inspecteur” or a “Detective”, as does Murdoch in this journal entry. However, French archives clearly show that he was only an ordinary police officer in 1899. In January 1900, he became an enquêteur-stagiaire (i.e. an investigator in training) at the De La Chapelle neighbourhood police station under commissioner Pontailler, and still filled the position at the date of this journal entry. He would only become an Inspecteur several years later. Nevertheless, it is a known fact that Guillaume’s career advanced at a brisk pace, both because of his investigative genius and his connections to his father-in-law, who took him under his wing as it appears to be the case here.

5\. Archangel Michael is the Catholic patron saint of police officers.


	14. The Murdoch Diary, part 2, cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> __  
> The Murdoch Diary, part 2:  
>  Paris  
> 25 and 27 May 1900  
> 

_25 May, Friday_.

There was a conflagration yesterday. That is is the only word I find that applies to what happened between James and me. I could not write about it until now. James was drunk, massively so, and I had been ruminating for most of the afternoon, knowing Guillaume will arrive at our door at any moment. I would do the same were I in Guillaume’s position.

Never have we been so cruel nor loud with eachother before. Even when I thought him a killer, I never flung such bile at him as I did yesterday. Of which he returned in equal amounts. We tore at eachother for hours, bearing all our pain and despair since To. The worry, the grief, the gaping holes left by cutting ourselves out of our lives. After the recriminations and the accusations were thrown, we were both exhausted, both literally on the floor, his back to the door, mine to a chair, James wept. Through it all, since October, James had never shed a tear, not in front of me at least. Then he told me everything. The truth finally.

He believes he committed a grave mistake when planning our escape. He said he realized it within days of our hiding in Sault-au-Récollet. What had gutted him so completely and drove him to despair and drink is so simple and so obvious, I cringe now. Why had I not seen it previously? He gave up his name. He says he should never have changed his name. He is no longer James Pendrick.

He explained that through all of his life, through all of the difficulties he experienced, from his father’s death, through Sally, the Rembrandt, the death ray1, the loss of the high rise and his investments and fortune, he always had his name. Through it all, he was James Pendrick and no one beats James Pendrick. James Pendrick survives everything.

But James Beckett is no one. His is not a world-renown civil engineer, not a brilliant inventor. Beckett is not an architect, not an industrialist. James Pendrick would have realized the de Suffren walkway was unsound before it collapsed. He would not have run away from Bourdais and he would have confronted Eiffel under his Tower. Pendrick would not have to cow away from all acquaintances visiting Paris this Spring. But Beckett does run away, must hide, because Beckett is a two-bit tutor who repairs bicycles on the side. A useless sodomite. A moping drunk living in a third-floor closet. I should have known.

This morning, he told me before I left for work that he looks forward Guilaume’s visit. Because once Guillaume comes here, whatever happens to us, he will be James Pendrick again. Perhaps a prisoner, perhaps a criminal extradited to Britain or back to Canada, but himself once more. He was home, plainly sober, when I returned from work today, but not very talkative. We read in silence in our bed and loved gently. He sleeps now as I write this. I pray I won’t lose him, us, in what is to come.

 

 

 _27 May, Sunday_.

Church was a boon this morning, solace after this trying week. James chose to accompany me for the first time since I’ve known him, not because he has found God, but so as to not be left alone in his thoughts. We stayed in La Chapelle all day. I convinced him to try the pool with me. It is a new and serviceable building, very clean, with naturally heated water pumped from an artesian well 2 . The water washed away our troubles for a while. So much so that we were asked to leave when we splashed around a bit too much. James smiled freely for the first time in too long. It was somewhat bittersweet, but genuine. We truly lanced the abscess on Friday. I feel light.

Marcel Guillaume came to the bank yesterday, alone rather than with a delegation from the Sûreté. I gave him my notes. He caught my eye from across the accounting room, circulated, strolled, around the desks. When he neared mine, I feigned accidentally dropping papers and pens at his feet. I passed him the report in a tightly folded bundle while he played at helping me pick up everything. He slipped it in his breast pocket and walked away.

Come what may, like the Bard says 3 .

 

 

1\. This most likely refers to the microwave weapon developed by Sally Hubbard and her accomplices in a scheme which ultimately revealed herself as a criminal while clearing James Pendrick of all wrong doing, saving him from the noose. One will remember the movie _The Murdoch Trap_ (2012) famously opens with the weapon in action and famous inventor Nicola Tesla saving the day. See both Gunn’s biography of Murdoch and Burke’s thesis on Hubbard.

2\. The Hébert Public Pool, on Place Hébert in the De La Chapelle neighbourhood, was opened in 1896 in an industrial hangar and is still in operation today. It is fed with artesian water at 26°C to 30°C.

3\. Shakespeare, _Macbeth_ , Act 1, Scene 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Murdoch Air_ (6.1) is my favourite Pendrick episode, because a) Pendrick whump, and b) all that it reveals of Pendrick's personality: "I'm James Pendrick! No one beats James Pendrick!"


	15. The Murdoch Diary, part 2, cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The Murdoch Diary, part 2:  
> **  
>  Paris  
> 17 June 1900

_17 June, Sunday._

Marcel Guillaume is a filthy liar. Certifiably. He possesses excellent detecting skills, but he is entirely made of gall. I wonder at his cunning, as much as I rage at his deviousness. Unbelievable! Outrageous!

He finally knocked at our door today, minutes after I returned from church. He must have been waiting for me. We have been waiting for his visit for 21 days. An anxious wait, to say the least. Yet he knows more about us than is comfortable. I could have escaped Paris, as we did Canada, but James did not wish it. To tell the truth, I am tired of running too.

And there he was, prancing in to reveal his host of lies, with smiles and not a hint or remorse. When Guillaume was in Canada last year, he was not a police detective at all. He was still a bachelor last year. He pranced around Toronto for the better part of two weeks, insulting my officers, throwing jabs at my accent, sleeping his way through a throng of well-to-do ladies, all the while telling me he was married to one of them, the one he called Angélique. 1 

In March of last year, Marcel Guillaume presented himself to me as an Inspecteur of the Sûreté de Paris away for an international police conference in Montreal. There was no such conference. What he was then, in fact, was a lowly gendarme on leave. He had taken it upon himself to investigate the disappearance of Monique Poirier 2  to impress his soon-to-be father-in-law, Commissaire Duponnois, by bringing back her killer. Indeed, he fully admits the ruse! Un petit mensonge, he says!  3  No remorse! Not for lying to he. Not for cheating on his betrothed, whom he married in April last year!  4 

He is not even an Inspector today! He is but a lowly provisional investigator, attached to this very neighbourhood. Investigating petty thefts and battery. His father-in-law is merely allowing him to observe the investigation at the bank.

I marvel at the coincidences. That I would have met Guillaume already. That he would be stationed in La Chapelle where we settled ourselves. That he would participate, however minimally, in an investigation at my place of employment. I rage and yet there is nothing to be done about it. Because for all his lies and gall, he is the police officer and we are the fugitives. His mirth at our situation is not welcome, frankly insulting, but we held our tongue.

It took so long for him to visit us because he took the time to investigate us fully. He worked to deflect all suspicions away from me. He informs me that as soon as the investigating team realized I was not who I claimed to be, I was first put under suspicion. I would have done the same under similar circumstances. Guillaume revealed my true identity to them. He proved my innocence. From then on, it was presumed I was undercover at the bank in the course of an investigation, and I barely escaped arrest for investigating outside my jurisdiction without having declared myself at the Sûreté. Guillaume managed to convince his father-in-law to leave me alone, but only after I shared my own information. After this, he gathered all he could about our lives and our assumed identities, quickly realizing the true reason for our presence in Paris. He spoke to our neighbours. He spoke to Mme M. He spoke to R. And here we are now: Marcel Guillaume mockingly pleased to find us in Paris, in his backyard, the fact that we are “Pédérastes” 5  is the hight of humour to him, making light of our flight from the Law.

He left us with two pieces our information of which we must take heed. Firstly, the neighbourhood has deduced we are lovers. Most of our neighbours are comfortable with this fact, and so long as we remain “those nice Canadians” we should not be bothered. He assures us the police officers at La Chapelle station will leave us alone so long as this remains. However, James must stop tutoring children. No police officer of any rank in Paris will tolerate a confirmed homosexual in a position such as this, even if all agree that James would never touch a child in an inappropriate manner. Guillaume recognizes the money James brings in as a tutor is essential to us, but he will not budge.

Secondly, he warns that it will most likely be revealed to the bank officers that I am not who I claim to be when the culprits will be indicted. They have been identified and arrested, and the monies found. Once the Board knows about me, I will be let go from the bank. Guillaume claims he sympathizes with our situation, but with the grating levity that he never suspected my nature. He left us insisting we should not despair and that he would return with more information.

 

 

1\. There is no record of Guillaume’s specific activities in Toronto in March 1899, though one must admit this behaviour is contradictory to the man’s public persona, including his self-presentation in his two published memoirs.

2\. See 21 May, notes 1 and 3.

3\. “A small lie”.

4\. Marcel Guillaume married Élise Émilie Duponnois on 25 April 1899, in the 15 th  arrondissement, where he resided. His own memoirs as well as his biographers recognize that this marriage and his good relations with Victor Duponnois greatly facilitated his early advancement in the Parisian judiciary police.

5\. “Pédéraste”, literally pedophile and most often shortened to “pédé,” was the official designation for men engaging in homosexual activities in France until well into the 20 th  century. From 1791 to 1981, Parisian police kept a central file identifying all homosexuals, cross-dressers and male prostitutes in the city, known as the “Registre des pédérastes.” Authorities worried about the potential social disruptions caused by those whose activities were not illegal in France, but which were nevertheless considered unnatural and perverted, as the association with pedophilia attests. As such, those homosexuals who were in close contact with children, cross-dressers, or those who were publicly open about their orientation were regularly harassed by police. In the early years of the 20th  century, homosexual groups were also commonly suspected of anarchism. The word “pédé” or “PD” remains common in today’s vernacular in France, though it is generally acknowledged to be both gravely inaccurate and derogatory.


	16. The Murdoch Diary, part 2, cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _The Murdoch Diary, part 2:_  
>  Paris  
> 24 and 25 June 1900  
> 

_ 24 June, Sunday _

Looking back at this journal I find that the harder the events, the least I write here. The last week confirms this observation. It certainly has been filled with worry. James tries. His mood is fragile. We took Guillaume’s counsel to heart and he resigned his previous clients, both boys. He has not found any new client, man or woman, which means he remains home through the day. Our situation would certainly lead better men to drink. James tries, but darkness pulls at him. Not only have we lost his small wages, but we lost mine as well.

The perpetrators at the Bank, a floor manager and a first-level accountant, were indicted Thursday last and I was “renvoyé 1 ” the next morning. Mr Duponnois spoke on my behalf to the Bank’s board, and arranged to let me keep all my earnings since April. It is part of the agreement between the Sûreté and the Board of directors; the whole affair is being kept confidential, my pseudonym apparently secure, and the Bank believes I was part of the investigation from the first 2 . I met the Juge d’Instruction 3 yesterday afternoon. I do not know if he knows all the particulars of our actual situation. Perhaps not; he did not mention it. Rather, he scolded me for not having declared myself as a policeman on foreign soil upon my arrival. But perhaps he knows more about the situation: before I left the Quai des Orfèvres 4 , he handed me permanent residency papers, for both James and I, under our true names. He did this without comment, as an aside as he shooed me out of his office and thanked me for my service.

We must conclude that Guillaume, or more likely his father-in-law at his behest, interceded on our behalf to the authorities. Could it be? How else would we have avoided arrest for our pseudonymous presence in France? The Law being immutable, who else could have organized this reprieve?

We must now once again make employment our primary concern.

 

 

_ 25 June, Monday _

A boy knocked at our door just now with a message ordering us to the commissariat 5 . It was signed by the station chief, not by Marcel Guillaume. We are anxious, of course. Hopefully these words will not be this journal’s last entry.

 

 

1\. Murdoch was “let go”.

2\. There is, in fact, no trace of these events in the Paribas public record.

3\. In the French judicial system, a Juge d’Instruction is a magistrate responsible for judicial investigations. As an investigating judge, they oversee indictments and the initial stages in a prosecution.

4\. 36, rue des Orfèvres not only houses the Sûreté de Paris’s headquarters, it also houses the Palais de Justice, Paris’s central courthouse, including the High Court.

5\. The village of La Chapelle’s former mairie, i.e.  its town hall, was constructed in 1845. When the village was amalgamated into Paris in 1860, the building was transformed as the neighbourhood’s administrative  centre ,  also housing  three schools, a courthouse, and its commissariat, i.e. the police station.  The town hall fronted on rue de la Chapelle (now rue Marx-Dormoy). However, by 1900, most of the police station’s activities had been moved nearby at 65, rue Philippe-de-Girard. An apartment building now stands at the site of the police station.


	17. The Murdoch Diary, part 2, cont.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _The Murdoch Diary, part 2:_  
>  Paris  
> 4 July 1900  
> 

_4 July, Wednesday_

The world turned upside down again. Here we are in Paris, our talents and our names recognized, at least behind closed doors. I must admit, reluctantly, the Guillaume pulled through for us. Granted, it is mostly to his benefit, but we can not and will not complain. Officially, when in public, we remain Beckett and Gagnon, but the names now serve as a kind of cover. However, to the Police, with permission of the Sûreté headquarters, we are ourselves again. Monday, James and I took the position of “specialists” at the Police station, working out of its stables. We will earn 22 hundred francs a year each, as much as most street patrolmen. There is no room for advancement outside of Marcel Guillaume’s own. Where he goes, we go. We are his Canadiens and will work as forensic analysts, all around tinkermen and soundboards for him. Guillaume remains a provisional investigator for the time being, but should soon replace the station’s inspector when he himself replaces Mr. Pontaillier1 upon his retirement as police chief. Probably next year if the rumours are correct.

We and Guillaume serve as a kind of experiment. Last week, we were summoned to Pontaillier’s office by no other than Bertillon2, with a representative from the “Première section du Deuxième bureau de la Première division,3” who would not give us his name, and in the presence of Guillaume and Duponnois. Bertillon explained he hoped to expand his anthropometric department to include the full use of detecting techniques and new technologies. The Sûreté is dubious at best but trust Bertillon. They are willing to disregard our “moral inferiority4” in order to exploit my own investigative experience in Toronto and James’s engineering acumen, so long as we remain in the shadows. We were given a week to decide, as if there was a choice to be made.

Our new life is both simpler and greatly stimulating to the intellect, similar enough to my life in Toronto, but with James taking a larger part. We cycle in the morning to Phillipe de Grand street and untangle the physical evidence Guillaume brings us. When not occupied by evidence (everything but finger marks, which still go directly to Bertillon’s office) we busy ourselves reconstructing the many surveillance devices James and I perfected back home, with the key difference that none may now be associated with our names. Any report we draft are signed by Guillaume. Our discoveries are his. Our devices are Bertillon’s.

I find myself sanguine about our prospects. With this position, I am once again a police officer, if tangentially, and I serve the law. I never cared for renown and have avoided fame. None of my supposed inventions were anything other than expansions on others’ ideas. The ultraviolet light James and I finished this morning is only an application of Wood and Ruben’s research5.

James is less enthused by the forced anonymity. Public recognition of his genius is important to him, as the last months have demonstrated. He thinks, however, that we may use our position as a means to invent apparatuses we could patent ourselves, using the facilities at our disposal here. I see him scheming and the glint in his eye, the one that drew me to him all those years ago, has returned. He shows genuine interest in the forensic sciences and the thrill of criminal investigation. This morning, unprompted, he mused that we might make ourselves useful after all. I can only agree.

 

 

1\. Very little information about Pontaillier remains in the public record. Both when he was commissaire at Pantin (a Paris suburb) and later in La Chapelle, neither city books, nor newspapers give his first name. Systematic research in Police records was not within the purview of this cognate essay.

2\. Alphonse Bertillon (1853-1914), renown French criminologist, generally recognized as an inventor of biometric analysis, he applied photography and anthropological measurement to law enforcement (known as the Bertillon system or Bertillonage), creating an identification system based on physical characteristics.

3\. In the 1900 Paris Préfecture de Police organizational structure, the first office of the second section of the first division is responsible for the case files of individuals under arrest and the expulsion procedure files of foreign nationals under arrest.

4\. Certainly a reference to homosexuality.

5\. Most likely, Murdoch is referring to Robert William Wood (1865-1955), an American physicist, and Henrich Rubens (1865-1922), a German physicist, both renown for their separate and common research at Berlin University on the light spectrum, including ultraviolet. Wood would continue his research on ultraviolet light, as well as ultrasounds, at Johns Hopkins University.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _The Murdoch Diary, part 2:_  
>  Paris  
> 7 July and 17 October 1900  
> 

_7 July, Sunday_

We decided we will no longer visit the Exposition. We have seen all the inventions we care about, with the exception of the telescope, but it is no matter. We decided the frustration brought by missing out on the presentations of those discoveries are likely to be much smaller than that of avoiding those men of science who would recognize James. We hope to continue to take in lectures whenever possible. One can hide in a crowd. However, our Sunday afternoons will now be spent at St Geneviève library1 reading scientific journals and the past week’s foreign papers. Much more satisfying.

To wit: on July 2nd, Zeppelin’s men successfully tested a prototype airship2. A rigid-framed, fully dirigible airship! What a time to be alive; the time of human flight is upon us. With this type of vehicle, Man will soon fly around the world, like Verne imagined, but in comfort and luxury. Imagine, one day, we might even return to Canada, across the Atlantic through the air.

James, who is looking over my shoulder, reminds me that we are yet ignorant of what physical effects or medical consequences would occur from prolonged, high-altitude flight, and that [end of manuscript]

 

[Partially-torn loose leaf inserted between pages 94 and 95.]

[Front of leaf] _17 October [Wednesday]_

James noticed a short news item in an American newspaper, not the Times, that has sent him in a tizzy. Apparently, two men in Ohio3 are attempting controlled, heavier-than-air, manned flight. They have already constructed a glider. James is attempting to ascertain how different from Lilienthal’s glider4 theirs is. In any case, he has been useless since Sunday, leaving me to take the brunt of analysis. Thankfully, it is a light week.

[Back of leaf]

• Pain

• Lait

• Encre noire

• Beurre

• Boeuf

• Onions et al.5

 

Thé – 352, St. Honoré6

 

 

1\. Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève, one of Paris’s oldest and biggest fully public libraries, was founded in 1851 and is still situated on Place du Panthéon in the 5th arrondissement.

2\. Murdoch is referring to Ferdinand von Zeppelin (1838-1917) and the LZ-1 (Luftschiffbau Zeppelin 1), the first prototype airship was tested over Lake Constance on July 2nd, 1900. The flight was considered a success despite it being cut short after 18 minutes due to structural failure. It was designed by Theodor Kober (1869-1930), constructed by Carl Berg (1851-1906) and piloted by Hauptmann Hans Bartsch von Sigsfeld (1861-1902). This was the first step in the development of Zeppelin’s well-known airships before the Second World War.

3\. The reference to Ohio and a glider indicates Murdoch is referring to Wilbur (1867-1912) and Orville Wright (1871-1942), who tested their very first prototype in 1900, ahead of their first motorized flight in 1903.

4\. Otto Lilienthal (1848-1896) is regarded as the first human to make repeated, documented, successful flights with gliders, from 1894 to his death from injuries incurred in a crash.

5\. Interesting that this undated grocery list, in Murdoch’s own hand, is entirely in French with the exception of the spelling of onions, in French “oignons”.

6\. Paris city books for 1900 show this to be the address of Forster et Compagnie, a tea seller, situated in the first arrondissement near Place Vendôme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a quick epilogue left and then the third story!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Excerpts from the Conclusion

**Excerpts from the Conclusion**

 

[...] It is unfortunate that Murdoch’s diary ends so abruptly, mid-sentence. This fact, and the loose leaf entry dated from October leads one to believe there is a second volume, location unknown. That the lone volume transcribed here was conserved at all is a miracle all of its own. [...] Above all, the journal’s very existence as part of the Ogden Fonds at the Ontario Provincial Archives reveals the Murdoch and his colleague and friend Julia Ogden were at some point in contact after 1900. When exactly this occurred and under what circumstances is a mystery. [...] No correspondence between the two survived, so far as we have identified. This is no proof of its nonexistence, however.

Much further research, notably in the Pendrick family archival fonds, housed both in Toronto and Winnipeg, should lead to more revelations. Sadly, such extensive research was simply out of the purview of a Master’s degree’s cognate essay. The same must be said for research in French Archives, especially in administrative, judiciary and police fonds. From what can be deduced, there should be a record of Murdoch and Pendrick’s residency permits, both under pseudonyms and their real names. Salary records must exist. Did they move up the ranks of the judiciary police nascent forensic service in the shadow of Marcel Guillaume’s meteoric career? Did they join Bertillon’s office, situated in the famed labyrinthine rooms under the rafters at Quai des Orfèvres? Such research, both across Canada and in France, would be possible in the course of a PhD project. It is our hope to continue to unravel the lost lives of William Murdoch and his lover James Pendrick. [...]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DONE!!!! See you in the next story: "Hopscotch and Bal Musette"!


End file.
